


Masquerade

by skeedelvee



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Cinderella vibes, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Humdrum Attack, Kissing, M/M, POV Alternating, Snogging, Watford Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeedelvee/pseuds/skeedelvee
Summary: Watford is throwing a masquerade ball for its students. With everyone in disguise, who knows what will happen?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 18
Kudos: 173





	Masquerade

**Simon**

Apparently every 8 years Watford throws a masquerade ball for its students. Just another drop in the bucket of things I didn’t know about til the last minute; things my peers just know about from birthright. 

Anyway, I guess it’s half school dance and half a test in our abilities. You’re meant to disguise yourself at it. The older students are expected to produce full on body transformations, whereas the younger ones usually just transform clothes into fancy dress. Decorative masks are also involved by tradition.

Unfortunately for me it’s my eighth year, so the expectations will be higher. Luckily there isn’t any actual grading involved, but you don’t want to be the only one recognized in a sea of perfect spellwork.

There’s a bunch of spells you can use. **I’m looking at the man in the mirror** or **I’m every woman** works if you want to transform your sex. Changes by David Bowie works well broadly, but your visualization and intention have to be perfect. If you mess up you could easily ‘Turn and face the strange’ and end up looking horrific. 

Penny’s been running all the options by me, seeing what might work. I don’t have high hopes I’ll be able to pull anything off. I’ll either have to beg her to spell me, skip all together, or find some sort of work around. Even if I got something to work, I’ll never be able to make it last for the whole evening.

I bet Baz isn’t sweating this. I bet he’s plotting something clever, something magically impressive, something he can brag about pulling off. I’d be worried if we didn’t have the truce going at the moment.

**Baz**

This masquerade is either going to be the best night of my dreadful life or absolute shite. Of course I already have my plan set out for my transformation. My big plan for the evening is still in motion though. I’ve been sowing seeds about it amongst all the upperclassmen boys, that they should come disguised as Simon Snow. They all think it’s some big hilarious prank; What they don’t know is I intend to flirt with as many Simon Snows as I can. Hopefully it’ll get some of the yearning out of my system, I might even get a kiss.

Anyone who’s anyone knows the Watford masquerade is all about hooking up, at least in the eyes of the students it is. The younglings hope for their first kisses, whereas the upperclassmen all pair off to snog in dark corridors.

It’s not exactly morally upright, hooking up in disguise, but there’s an unspoken agreement about it all: that it’s ok if it’s at the masquerade. And what happens at the masquerade, stays at the masquerade. 

Of course most friend groups and families let each other know about their disguise. No one wants to snog their cousin by accident. That’s why I tell Dev and Niall about my disguise, everyone else can be none the wiser.

I’ve found that in doing 2 spells, casting the lyric **I’m going through changes** and then the phrase **I’ll be whoever you want me to be** , I can change in appearance from person to person. They’ll all perceive me as who they want most. It’s unnecessarily advanced level spellwork, but I’ve never been one to do things half arsed.

I tested my findings on Dev and Niall. They confirmed the spells worked, but refused to say who they each saw. I have my suspicions, but I won’t voice them when we’re all together. Perhaps my plan is a little devious. Perhaps I’ve played at being a villain for so long that I just don’t care. I’ve liked Simon Snow for years now, I’m taking my shot at one night of bliss even if it wrecks me the next day.

**Simon**

I’m in luck! Tonight’s the night of the masquerade, and up until this morning I didn’t have a plan at all for it. Rhys approached me during breakfast and told me about the rumors spreading around, that a bunch of seventh and eighth years are disguising themselves as me for the dance. I should be annoyed, and I am a little, but honestly this is exactly what I’ve been looking for. I can just go to the masquerade as myself now and everyone will think it’s a disguise! 

I relay my plan to Penny when she joins me with her tray of food.

“Simon, have you forgotten all about The Humdrum wearing your face? Aren’t you the least bit concerned that this could be potentially dangerous?”

“Well it’s not like The Humdrum could’ve cooked up this plan, or could know that it’s happening even. I bet it’s some prank planned out by Baz and his cronies.”

“Wouldn’t that go against your truce?”

“Dunno, petty pranks are kind of a grey area. Maybe it’s just the cronies running it, sounds like something Dev would do.”

“Well it’s a good thing my disguise is fairly simple, I’ll need my reserves in case there’s an attack.”

“Let’s hope there won’t be, but I’ll keep watch as well. Will you help me spell my clothes though? Gotta dress up a little at least.”

“Fine, but only if you try to do it yourself first. You need the practice, Simon.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

The rest of breakfast goes on as usual. I’m almost excited for the masquerade now that I have a plan for it. It might even be fun. And I could use some fun after starting the year so stressed over Baz’s absence. Things are actually going pretty well between us now. He’s still a stuck up arse at times, but he’s kind of nice to be around now that we’re working together. Makes me wish we could’ve joined forces from the start.

\--

Penny and I get ready in my room, Baz is off getting ready with Dev and Niall I think. I scorched a pair of socks trying to spell them for tonight. Penny takes over and spells my uniform into a slick tuxedo with tails with the spell **black tie only** and transforms a pair of sunnies into a mask by singing the first few bars of Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera.

She transforms herself next, casting **Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger**. She grows taller than me and her curves turn into pronounced muscles under her uniform, even her hair straightens out behind her.

“Woah! Does that spell usually do that?”

“It’s all intention, Simon. I’ve tried to explain it to you a dozen times. Now turn around while I spell my clothes.”

I do and she uses the same spells on her uniform and glasses. When I turn around she’s in a floor length black velvet gown with skinny straps that leave her jacked arms on display. 

“You call this simple?”

“It’s a full moon, Simon. I can afford to use the excess magic.”

We fasten our masks and make our way out of Mummers. Most everyone’s already headed over by now. I wanted to make sure no one saw me leaving my room still looking like me.

When we arrive at the Weeping Tower we have to get checked off a list by Miss Possibelf, who’s stationed behind a curtain by the dining hall.

“Good evening, Miss Possibelf.” Penny states.

“Good evening. Names and magical instruments please.”

Penny displays her purple ring in front of her. “Penelope Bunce.”

I pull my wand out of my pocket (Almost forgot it til Penny reminded me). “Simon Snow.”

She checks us off a list and gives us a once over. “Lovely spellwork as usual, Miss Bunce. As for you, Mister Snow, the clothes are a good effort at least.”

“Thank you, Miss Possibelf.” We answer in unison. We both hold our tongues on who actually spelled my clothes.

“Remember: it’s masks off by midnight, so go on home before then if you don’t want to get unveiled.” We heard all about this when the masquerade was announced, the teachers spelled the bell in the White Chapel. **By the stroke of midnight** , like in Cinderella, the spell makes it so any transformation magic wears off by the final bell toll of midnight.

We say our good nights and then we enter the masquerade. I book it for the food and Penny goes to mingle and check out everyone’s spellwork. We decided it’d be best to split up for at least a bit, as a pair it’d be easier to tell who we really are.

**Baz**

The dining hall is made over into a dance hall, it looks pretty good actually. There’s a golden glow about the room, you could never tell that it was the same room we ate dinner at a few hours ago. The teachers must have worked together to pull off the transformation. There’s twinkling lights all across the ceiling and what tables remain are stacked with snacks and refreshments. I could just imagine Simon’s delight over the spread when I first saw it. 

I’m taking a turn about the room taking in the party goers. There’s all sorts of transformations going on. I see a lot of people going for a heightened beauty look, I see a smattering of people going for body modifications (tattoos, muscles, colored hair), I even see a few species transformations (a few fairies, a dryad, a couple goblins too). And just as I had planned it, I see at least a dozen Simon Snows.

I’m catching quite a few eyes in return. My spell worked flawlessly. So flawless in fact it even works on me, when I look down at my own hands I see golden skin and a smattering of freckles. To everyone else though I’m exactly who they want.

Even my clothes change to their taste. What I’m really wearing is a custom fit suit in deep purple, and I look wonderful in it. Even my mask is custom made to match. I could have just as easily spelled my school uniform, but what’s the fun in that.

I try my hand at flirting with a few of the Simons. Unfortunately most of them are terrible at flirting and the rest are just terrible conversationalists in general. It's past 11 and I’d almost given up on my plot when I see the most perfect copy by the punch bowl. Most of the Simons are a little off (too little freckles, too many moles, too tall, too muscular), but this one’s spot on. He’s in a stunning black tuxedo with a bowtie and a matching black and gold mask, looking like a dream prince. He’s doling himself out a cup when I approach him.

“Has that been spiked yet?”

“Don’t think so. I think Cook Pritchard would murder anyone who tried.”

“Pity, I could go for a drink.”

He looks up at me from his cup. “Great look you’ve got going, haven’t seen that on anyone else.”

“Thanks, you look great as well. I think you’re as close to the real thing as I’ve seen tonight.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Most of them mess something up, the heights wrong or the eyes are wrong.”

“Been spending the dance sizing up my doppelgangers then?” He sets his cup on the table and starts pouring me a drink.

“Bit hard not to, they’re everywhere.” He hands me my own cup and I take it gladly. It’s delectable, fruity with just the right amount of sweetness.

“Well you sound like quite the connoisseur.”

“What’s life without it’s hobbies?” I get a laugh from that.

“This masquerade really came together, I can see why they only do it every 8 years though.”

“I read that in the early 1600s they used to hold one every year, dances became very popular once the school started admitting female students. The drama of it all came to be too much for the staff to deal with though, so they cut the frequency.”

“Ha! I can see that. I feel like having it be more rare makes it feel more special anyways.”

“I wholeheartedly concur.”

We gingerly sip from our cups while we watch the dance floor spin. The first bars of ELO’s Mr. Blue Sky starts bumping through the speakers. When I drink the last drops of my punch I muster up my courage and turn to him.

“Want to dance?”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure!”

We set our cups aside and I take his arm as we approach the dance floor. I’m glad it’s a fast song, that way we don’t have to navigate who leads. I’m not sure what he’s seeing afterall, I don’t know if I’m a man or a woman to him (I could be nonbinary for all I know). I just let the music take control as we hop to the beat. I can’t help but smile as this Simon takes my hands and we spin to our heart’s content. He meets my smile with a full watt one of his own.

**Simon**

Who knew dancing with Baz Pitch could be this fun? I know it’s a masquerade and this isn’t the real Baz, but I’m dancing up a storm with the spitting image and everything just feels right. Everyone’s singing along and the dance floor is swelling with excitement. I have to hold on to his hands so we don’t get separated. And when the song fades out I don’t let go.

“Do you want to go somewhere more quiet?” He asks over the noise of the crowd.

“Okay!”

We wind our way through the packed bodies and make for the side door out of the hall. The door shuts behind us and we search the hallways for an alcove to relax in. Once we find one we lean up against the brick wall and catch our breaths. I’ve still got one of his hands in mine.

“I haven’t had that much fun in ages!”

“Me neither.”

I can see my own dopey smile mirrored on his face. It's kind of strange in it’s own way, seeing Baz’s face smiling like this. My Baz never smiles, he smirks and sneers exclusively. He should smile more, it really lights up his features.

Masked Baz’s smile turns shy as he raises our clasped hands for a moment. “So…”

“So...” I can feel the blush crawl up my neck. I look to the ground as he interlaces our fingers.

I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am. The real Baz would probably push me down the stairs again if he knew what I was up to. That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stop thinking about how nice Baz’s hand feels clutched in mine instead of closed in a fist.

When I look back up he’s angled towards me, a coy smile playing at the corner of his plush lips. My eyes roam his masked face, he’s proper beautiful just like the real Baz. I’d usually say that was just a fact anyone could see; and it is, but with how often my gaze is drawn towards his mouth I’m having a harder time convincing myself that the beauty I’m taking in isn’t affecting me on a more personal level.

We’re slowly inching closer and closer together and I just can’t take it. I close the distance and plant my lips against his. It feels just as good as I thought it would, it feels like a light switch getting flicked on, it feels like he’s... frozen in surprise… Shit, maybe I moved too fast? Before I have time to pull back his lips melt against mine and his hands come up to cradle my face. I lose all thought as our lips gently slide together.

**Baz**

Whatever apprehensions I might have had about sharing my first kiss with a fake Simon go right out the window. It’s perfect, absolutely perfect. His lips are warm and growing ever more relentless. His skin is soft under my hands, I glide them from his jaw to the back of his neck as the kiss grows. I can’t resist the urge to bury my fingers in his bronze curls.

Crowley, now that I’m this close he even smells just like Simon! Rich butter and smoke. How is that even possible? Whoever this is they deserve my full compliments for the attention to detail in their spellwork.

His hands are firmly grasping me by the hips. He pushes me back til I’m up against the wall and I could swoon. His palms snake underneath my jacket as he presses us chest to chest. It feels absolutely amazing... until it doesn’t. There’s a dull burning sensation in the center of my chest. I hiss and push him away slightly. My hands linger on his lapels as my brain unfogs. I feel around softly for whatever caused that sensation. I feel a hard lump just below his bowtie that makes my skin ache. It can only be one thing: a necklace, Simon’s cross necklace to be specific. My brain panics with the implications. It’s one thing to create a perfect visual transformation into Simon Snow, but to also wear a cross underneath your clothes to match? No one would bother with such a detail. That means this must be the real deal. I’ve been snogging the real Simon Snow all along.

He’s staring at me with clear confusion. “Are you alright? Was that- was that too much?”

All confidence leaves my body and all I want is to flee, but I’m still backed up against the wall. 

“I…”

Before I can even think of where that sentence was going, we’re interrupted by the sound of screaming inside the masquerade. We immediately break apart and run back to the dining hall. The closer we get the more you can feel the dry sucking sensation of a humdrum attack. 

We open the doors to chaos. Students run out past us as we step in. Simon’s already drawn his sword in preparation. What greets us is a giant angry ogre in the center of the dance floor. The teachers and a few students are casting spell after spell at it with mixed results, humdum attacks always limit one’s magical abilities. I see Miss Possibelf to it’s right, the minotaur to it’s left, and right beside him is a jacked indian woman who I imagine is actually Penelope Bunce. It looks like they’re trying to back it up and out the window it crashed through, but the ogre stands strong, waving it’s fists about.

When we get within sight Bunce calls for Simon. “Simon! We have to get him out of here before he starts causing structural damage!”

He charges in, shouting for his attention. “Hey you! I’m what you’re here for! Come and get me!”

The ogre’s gaze follows him briefly as he tries to lead him outside, but then his eyes snap forward and he looks directly and intensely at me.

“Crowley…”

Curse me and my perfect spellwork. It’s clear from the look on the ogre’s face that I must appear to be the ogre of his dreams... He clomps forward towards me in interest. My feet have enough wherewithal to follow Simon’s trajectory leading outside the building. The ogre follows, pushing over everything that stands in his path. 

“Why is it following you and not me?”

“It’s a long story, but let’s just say I appear to be his type.”

He laughs at that as we run out the ogre shaped hole in the wall.

**Simon**

Me thinking Baz is universally attractive is one thing, but thinking he’s even attractive to an ogre is just hilarious.

As soon as we’ve led the creature onto the lawn I turn with my sword raised. Fake Baz pulls his wand out of his sleeve and prepares to cast. I reach out my arm to hold him back.

“Stay behind me! It’s not safe!”

“If you’re going to do something, Snow, get on with it. I won’t be caught with my guard down.”

Snow? Whoever this is is laying it on thick. 

As the ogre approaches I charge and swing my sword towards it’s big gut. It blocks the strike with its leathery forearm, leaving only a nick in it’s flesh. It roars loudly in anger and goes to knock me over with it’s fists; I duck just in time. Me and fake Baz are creeping backwards as the ogre advances, leading it further from the school. Penny and the teachers are behind it now, casting spell after spell to knock it out. The creature is too strong and the magical atmosphere is too thin. It’s all on me to get the job done.

The battle goes on in a wash of noise and movement. Spell, slash, grunt, swing, spell, slash, grunt, swing. 

The spells are coming from all around now.

“ **Mama said knock you out!** ” from Penny.

“ **Out like a light!** ” from Miss Possibelf.

“ **Down and out!** ” from the Minotaur.

Fake Baz is clever. He’s trying to cast in unison with the others, anticipating their next spell as they say it and casting at the same time. He gets it right on the money with “ **Seeing Stars** ”. With Baz and Penny’s powers combined they spell the ogre dizzy. It starts to stumble in place as if it’s vision is clouded by stars. I take the opportunity and thrust my sword into its gut. It’s momentum drives it forward as it starts to collapse. I think to myself I’m about to get crushed under an ogre, but then hands are grabbing me under my armpits and hauling me backwards. We land onto the grass, narrowly avoiding the ogre’s falling body.

We’re left panting over the exertion of the battle. I turn to fake Baz. “Thanks for that!”

“No problem at all. Here-” He hands me the handkerchief from his lapel. I use it to wipe away the sweat from my brow. As I loosen my bowtie the first bell tolls from the White Chapel. I can see fake Baz start to panic.

“I have to go!” He scrambles to his feet and starts to back away into a run. We’re on the 3rd toll now and bits of our outfits are starting to shimmer. I get up and start chasing him. I’ve felt a real connection with this person and I’m not ready to let that go.

“Wait! Please don’t go!”

I don’t even care about the mess in my wake. The teachers can handle the clean up now that the humdrum’s influence is severed.

“Leave me alone! I don’t want you to see!”

He’s fast, he’s a good 20 paces ahead of me now. We’re on the 10th bell toll. I’m back in my uniform and my mask has turned back into sunglasses, I push them up out of my eyes. His clothes remain unchanged, although I can’t see his mask at the moment. As the last 2 bell tolls ring out I look down at the handkerchief in my grasp and there in the corner is the pitch family crest. I’m an idiot. Fake Baz is the real Baz. I’ve been flirting and dancing and snogging with the real Baz this whole time. As the realization dawns on me I find that I don’t actually mind. If this is how things could be, then I’d much rather do this than go on fighting.

“Baz! Wait!”

He flinches at that, he knows he’s been caught. He slows to a stop and waits for me with crossed arms. When I catch up I’m a panting mess.

“Laugh it up now. I’ll have set myself ablaze by morning.”

“You’re still Baz.”

He makes a choked noise at the back of his throat. “What do you mean, still?”

“I mean, I had this amazing connection with someone I thought was dressed up as you, but it was you all along.”

“I-”

“Did you know it was really me, Baz?”

“No, not until after we kissed...”

“You just thought I was dressed up as me?”

“In essence.”

He won’t meet my eyes now. I don’t think he knows what to do with this information. I think I’ll have to spell it out for him. I step into his space and grab him by the sides of his face. His breath catches as I lean forward and press our lips together. He kisses me back immediately this time and holds me close by the lapels of my school jacket. Where our first kiss was flirtatious and carefree, this one is all passion, passion and promise. I break us apart and lean my forehead to his.

“I like masquerade Baz. I like truce Baz. I like you, Baz.”

He gives me another bright smile, like the ones I thought earlier looked foreign on his face. I want to keep making him smile like this. 

“I like you too, Simon.”

We stand there in the glow of our confessions for a moment before I take his hands in mine.

“Walk home?”

“Yeah.”

We make our way to Mummers hand in hand. The masks are off now, maybe we can finally get to know the real us.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> If anyone wants to write a companion piece with what Penny and Agatha or Dev and Niall were up to feel free! And definitely shoot me a link or gift it so I can check it out!


End file.
